


only taka

by katotastic000



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: ishimondo - Freeform, mentioned: Chihiro Fujisaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katotastic000/pseuds/katotastic000
Summary: That's what you call a déjà-vu, right?Mondo had been here before, he remembered it.This was not his first murder.





	only taka

That's what you call a déjà-vu, right?  
Mondo had been here before, he remembered it, standing in front of a lifeless body that had once belonged to someone close to him.

He fell down to his knees, as he did the first time, except now there was no familiar hoarse voice calling his name and no fading smile that he knew since he was born. There was no Daiya telling his brother that _he_ fucked up, that it's not his fault.  
There was no chance for Mondo to apologize, to cry and to regret.

There was only Taka and silence.

No, this was not even Taka anymore. The body in front of him was but a wax figure in his clothes and a mask that mimiced his face.  
Mondo laid a hand on his chest, no heartbeat and no warmth, of course. This thing was an empty shell. Blank wide eyes - their fire went extinct - open mouth and a crushed forehead with smudgy traces of blood. Ishimaru had faded and Mondo was the cause.

Half a day before, they had recieved their second motive. With his unmoving smile, Monokuma had announced that he knew about their deepest, darkest secrets and was ready to reveal them to the whole world if all of his students would witness the next morning. Almost right after that, a note in tiny, rounded handwriting was slipped under Mondo's door and Ishimaru asked him if he had time to talk.

Just a minute ago, Taka's eyes were forced on Mondo's while he spoke about his grandfather, the oh-so brilliant Prime Minister who had drowned his family in shame and debt and his dream of surpassing him and bringing the pride back to his name.  
He sounded tremulous and brittle. He told Owada about his father who struggled to crack a tired smile, who whispered to his dead wife's shrine with a newspaper in hand. About his classmates who laughed at his threadbare uniforms and tattered them to shreds until he only had two left. About everyone who grimaced at a little boy's name because it reminded them of times that had already passed.  
And Taka thanked him. For listening, for being by his side, for being the man he is and for a brief moment, he seemed vulnerable.

The air turned to concrete on Mondo's shoulders the longer he stared at him. The area around his eyes was reddened, his firm posture had collapsed like a soldier pierced with bullets and his nails were carving into the palms of his hands inside his clenched fists. "What... what happened to you?", Mondo had no control over his mouth as those words fell out of it. The softness in his tone had surprised him.

Moments later, that soft tone had vanished. His gruff roars were that of an animal, a _beast_. Taka had given his best to tame him; shoulders squared, hands raised to absorb any possible attack. But his irises were moving, flickering from side to side; Kiyotaka had been afraid and Mondo had loved it. Kiyotaka deserved to fear him. He was mocking him with his very existence, odious as none other could be. His _strength_ made him puke. Mondo was strong, much stronger than him, than any other man, than his brother. He could carry the weight of murder, the burden of his gang and he could lift a dumbbell with ease.

It was a low way to die. The wound distorted his face - half of it covered in morbid pink fluid mixed with shards of shattered bone, dying his hair inch by inch - and bled out on the floor and the dirt.

Mondo wanted to hold him in his arms, beg him for forgiveness, put their foreheads together, his hand in his own and he wanted him to blink. But there was enough blood on him already that etched through his clothes and skin.  
He closed his best friend's eyes and left.

 

―

 

"Makoto." Kyoko guided him out of his raging thoughts. "Is there nothing odd about the body?" Naegi tried to concentrate. A drip of sweat ran down his temple. It throbbed as he summoned the memory once again. "Remember, Taka died instantly."

Makoto's head snapped up, only to realize the bitter truth. It felt like he was scraping dust off his lips as he spoke, "You're referring to his eyes, right? They were closed even though he had no chance to shut them. And since no one was at the crime scene before us except the killer, the killer must have done it."  
"You seem to know who they are, don't you?" Togami's smile sent a spear through his spine. Makoto shuddered. He wondered how long Byakuya had known the blackened's name. "It's a sign of respect", Naegi continued. "It means the murderer was close to Taka. And when we combine that with the fact that culprit was male and taller than the victim and he was able to pick up a dumbbell without effort, that leads us to one conclusion. But..."

Mondo, Taka was your friend. Why would you... kill him?  
Makoto poured water in Mondo's ears. The other's gasps seemed distant.

Byakuya sighed and spoke up, "That explanation is an easy one to find. Even a dead from the neck up gull like Owada is capable of fabricating a friendship and abusing people for his own benefit."

"You dunno shit." Mondo's fingers wound around the wood of his stand, tendons cleary visible. A storm arose in his gut, lurking in his throat, ready to be sent out. But instead of thunder, there came rain. "You dunno _shit_!" His voice spiraled up and down and finally broke. Tears were flooding his face, dragging along inky lines of black. He bit his tongue to swallow the sobs, caging them behind his teeth. He tasted iron soon after. "Taka was-"  
Mondo never finished this sentence.

Everything spun and turned. Their faces stood out of the dim, flowing picture: blank and gypsum-colored. They kept asking and asking the same damned question, "Why did you do it, Mondo? Why did you kill your friend? Why did you murder him?" They pierced him like bullets. His frame trembled. He wished he could move and rip off the roots that held him in place though chances were high that he was cut. He wanted to run home, not bothering that he didn't know where that even was. He wanted everything to end - the swirling, his life, the questions. There would be silence, nevermind the death.

Death would hurt. Velocity would pull the skin off his flesh, electricity would numb his body. But it'd feel familiar, he had met death before.

There would be only Taka and pain.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
